Melody Quill and the Crystal Cauldron
by drumjedi76
Summary: Melody Quill's rural American life is anything but happy and exciting. Her dad's new wife has a lot to do with that. When a mysterious letter summons her to the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Melody's view of reality and her real mom come into focus. A magical jaunt into Massachusetts sends Mel on a crash course with destructive forces beyond Voldemort.
1. Chapter 1

Another quiet night had befallen Chestnut Street in a tiny corner of rural America. As unfortunate as it is to say, it wasn't a peaceful one for Melody Quill. She sat alone huddled under the pale cone of light at her family's breakfast nook table. She swept a stray mousey brown curl from her cheek and peered off into the ghostly hue that lay over her yard. The world felt better this way. A far cry from what the young girl had just experienced.

The door at the far end of the hall creaked open. A pair of bare feet padded across carpeting in her direction.

"Another nightmare?"

It was Melody's dad. She nodded.

Mr. Quill took up the oaken seat across from her. "Wanna talk about it?"

Her green gaze lifted to meet his brown one. Melody wanted to tell her dad everything, to not hold back any secrets, but this recurring nightmare made it difficult.

"Nope." Her skinny chest deflated a little.

Mike Quill chuckled. "You remind me so much of your mom, and not just those sparkling green eyes either."

Her dad was an honorable man who worked hard to provide the cozy life that Melody had grown accustomed to. Mike toiled away as a Senior Vice President of Something-Or-Other at one of the local big banks in town. Right on Main Street, in fact. Every day, local businesses like the Dairy King on East Main, Crazy Willie's Car lot, and the Book Nook Used Bookstore met with her dad to discuss loans for their companies and making them smaller somehow.

How could she tell him about this? Almost every night for the last few months since spring break, Melody had been having the same dream. She found herself walking on a grassy knoll high up in the mountains. A thin wispy fog always rolled in and covered her feet. Tiny voices chittered and chattered from their secluded bastions. Some distance off, a small tree appeared, and the mists receded. Melody would walk up to this tree and reach out a hand to touch it. Before her fingers could pluck a leaf, the ground would crack and open up under her. Glowing blue light radiated from the raised chunks of earth and stone. She scurried back on her bottom across the grass. From the chasm rose a shimmering blue wand broken into two pieces. As the two merged to form the whole, a towering apparition materialized, looming over the cowering girl. The deep, hollow cackle of a hag filled every available space. As her boney arm stretched down to grab Melody, she would wake in a cold sweat.

No, she had to keep it to herself. If her dad caught wind of this debacle, he might declare that she was just as loony as her mom and throw her into some mental hospital, too.

"You hold your secrets like your mom did." He rose from his chair and made for the sink on the other side of their kitchen. "Want a little water?"

Melody bobbed her head of brown hair again. "Thanks."

He slid a glass tumbler from its cabinet above the toaster oven and turned on the faucet. "You can talk to me about whatever's bothering you. You know that, hon."

"I know." She fidgeted with her still clammy index finger. "It's not that I don't. It – it's -"

Mike returned with the glass half full. Being the epitomic optimist, her dad would have never said it was half empty. Never. "Boy troubles?"

Mel scoffed. "No, dad." She was eleven, but getting all mushy over a boy was the farthest thing from her mind.

He sat back down and set the glass in front of her. "Well, whatever it is -"

"Why is mom there?"

Mike rubbed the crud from his eyes with the heels of his palms. "Why is she where?"

Melody downed her gulp of water. "That loony bin place."

Her dad grumbled, running a hand through his disheveled brown and gray hair. "We've been through this, Mel."

"You thought she was crazy, but why?"

He lowered his forearms to the table and closed his eyes. "Your mother – she thought that… well, she had all sorts of delusions."

"Thought she could what, dad?"

Mike slumped back into his chair and crossed his slender arms over his matching stick-like chest. "Elinor, your mom, thought all sorts of bizarre things."

Melody leaned in over her side of the table. "Like?"

Another sigh. "Like she could talk to animals. Like her remedies could cure illnesses or make her invisible. Like when I found her the last time on top of a building."

"What happened then?"

He rubbed his eyes with his fingers. "She thought she could fly."

Melody took another drink from her glass. Her eyes narrowed in deep thought. "I can see her face." She lowered her head in defeat. "I can't remember anything else about her."

Her dad leaned in over the tabletop and sat a soft hand on hers. "You were still little, sweet pea. Don't beat yourself up about it."

Mel looked him in the eyes. "What was she like?"

Mike grimaced. It was only for a split second, but long enough for her to notice. "You mom -" he cleared his throat "—when she was well, was a wonderful lady."

"What made her go crazy?"

Her father's head shook. "Can't say for sure, hon. Any number of things might have led to it."

He rose from the dinner table and rubbed the back of her head in gentle strokes. "Better get back into bed. I've got a long day at the office, and you've probably got a million adventures to go on tomorrow."

Mel groaned.

"Maybe you guys can meet me in City Park tomorrow after I get off work, and we can watch the fireworks together."

"You mean it?"

Mike bobbed his head. "Yup." He let out a long yawn. "Off to bed with you, then."

She took his waist in a tight hug and squeezed. "Love you."

"You, too." He lumbered back into his bedroom. "Sweet dreams, pumpkin."

Melody tiptoed back down the far hallway past her stepbrother and stepsisters' rooms (if she woke them, she'd never hear the end of it), and slipped back into her lukewarm covers. As she rested her head on the crumpled pillow, her eyes drifted out the slits in her blinds to the moonlight.

 _Why can't I remember her?_

Mel closed her eyes and forced her imagination into a happier place.

 _Try! Try to find at least one good thought in there._

Images and sounds flew past her mind's eye in blurs. Birthday balloons of bright colors, trick-or-treating around their neighborhood, and sparkling gold and silver rings on the branches of a Christmas tree.

 _Come on! Dig deeper. Morning's coming soon._

And come, it did.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

"Rise and shine!"

Melody knew that condescending voice. Angela, his _wife_.

"These dishes aren't gonna clean themselves, kiddo."

Mel grumbled and heaved the bedsheet up over her nest of knotted brown curls. "Another fifteen minutes."

The snuggly sheet and blankets came off her in a flash. "You've got fifteen seconds, Miss Thing, to get yourself in gear before I add more chores to your to-do list for the day."

She popped up at the hips. "What? I was going to go over to Stephanie's house later."

 _Angela_ left her bedding in a pile at the foot of her sleigh bed and meandered back down the hall toward the kitchen. "That'll have to wait until after your chores are done."

Melody groaned and slapped her bed on either side. "This is so unfair."

"What was that?" Angela's voice came from somewhere in their kitchen.

Mel swung her slender legs over the side of the bed. "Nothing."

Once she had dressed and made herself presentable, Melody lumbered down the hall toward the kitchen. Although it was eight in the morning, the midsummer sun already baked the interior of their split-level home.

Her stepmom stood in front of the stove, one middle-aged hip cocked out. "Anytime you're ready, sweet pea." Angela pushed the egg carton across the countertop in Mel's direction. "These eggs aren't going to scramble themselves."

Ever since this feminine monstrosity had entered her life, it had been the same thing. Since her dad worked every day at a big bank in town, it left Melody alone to fend for herself with not only Angela, but her new stepsiblings, Chad and Megan, as well. Being outnumbered, she thought it best for now to bide her time.

Mel took up an egg in her hand and cracked it into the hot skillet. The sizzling white mass stalled and sizzled. Three more of its unlucky cohorts joined it around the circumference of the cast iron pan. A smattering of salt and pepper later, Chad and Megan decided to grace the world with their existence.

"Ah, there you two sleepyheads are!" Angela's tone had taken on a more chipper tone with her flesh and blood. "We were just whipping up some breakfast for you."

Mel sneered and flipped the first egg over.

"Can you speed up the process a little?" Chet jabbed. "I'm starving."

Mel tilted her head to her left shoulder. She knew her slightly older stepsister couldn't go more than two breaths without getting in on a shot at her.

"Yeah, Mel. What's taking so long?"

"They're almost done," Melody said. "I just got up a little while ago."

Megan slumped back in her chair; her strawberry blonde curls fell over her green glare. "Then, get up earlier."

If Mel's teeth had clamped down any tighter, they may have snapped _. A ten year old kid shouldn't have to put up with this kind of torture_. She flopped two of the eggs onto another porcelain plate. _No, this is child abuse. That's what this is_. She slid the other two eggs onto separate plates and handed them out around the kitchen table.

Angela escorted her steaming cup of smelly coffee over to join her children at the small table. "Once you've cleaned up that mess, you can get yourself something for breakfast."

Melody flipped the wheel to the front burner off and let her emotions go numb.

"And, when you're done eating," her stepmom continued, "you can weed the flowerbeds outside."

The pan dropped out of Mel's hand to the sink basin with a loud clang. "It's gotta be a hundred out there!"

"It is not." Angela scoffed and rolled her eyes out the bay windows. "Even if it was, they would still need cleaned up."

Mel squirted a shot of dish soap into the pan and turned the water on. _One of these days, you guys will get what's coming to you_. She plucked a rag out of the drawer beside the sink and dove into the duty at hand _. Maybe not today, but one of these days_.

Outside, Melody's work didn't go any smoother. The sweltering July sun baked her shoulders as she toiled over the bed of tulips and perennials. She detested this sort of thing. It had nothing to do with the flowers. In fact, their blue and lavender petals gave her one of a few happy respites from her summer doldrums. No, the dirt and stagnant heat. Those things made her question her sanity on days like these.

As midmorning passed and the shadows of their tall oaks grew toward the house, Mel made her way to the bed under the front window. She took a break, wiped the grime from her forehead, and set her gardening claw in the soil.

"Let's just see what you do with _your_ precious time while I'm out here baking in the heat."

Her green eyes crept up above the windowsill and bulged to the size of the eggs she had made a few hours ago. There in the cool comforts of her dad's house sat his new wife.

"And, she's still not even out of her pajamas!" She turned and flopped against the gray vinyl siding. "Clacking away on her blog, no doubt." She slid off the house and took up the claw once more. "I don't even have to see the other two to know what they're up to." She dropped to her knees and went about tearing out the weeds. "Chad's in his room probably playing a video game, and Megan's on her phone texting about one of the boys in school."

"Psst!"

Mel let out a tiny shriek and tossed her claw into the grass behind her. "A snake is the last thing I need right now."

"Psssssst! Over here."

She glanced down the length of the house and into the shadows of the trees. "Steph!" She hunched down under the view from the windows and snuck down to meet her neighbor and best friend. She slapped Stephanie hard on her left shoulder. "You scared the crap outa me!"

"Hey!" Steph rubbed her arm and shoved Melody back a step. "Well, you looked like you could use a break from over here."

Mel nodded. "You have no idea."

"They got ya on slave labor again today?"

Mel's head bobbed.

An awkward silence grew between them. Stephanie knew what sort of hell her bestie was going through. Yet, she could do nothing more than watch it happen and console Mel when the situations called for it.

"Well, hey," Steph said, "at least your birthday's coming up soon, right?"

Mel shrugged.

"C'mon." Steph leaned over into her shoulder. "It'll be awesome. Cake, presents, me."

The duo chuckled.

"You're finally going to catch back up to me," Stephanie said. "The big ole one-one."

Melody kicked at a passing grasshopper at her feet. "I suppose eleven isn't awful."

Steph climbed the first few steps of their treehouse. "Are you kidding? Eleven's the best." She set one knee on the floor of the house. "Just old enough to be on your own, but still daddy's little girl." She grabbed Mel by a hand and hauled her in.

Mel glanced up in appreciation. "Daddy's girl is Angela, not me."

"Oh, bull hockey!" Steph swept her long blonde bangs grom her hazel eyes and produced two Charms suckers from the hip pocket of her denim shorts.

"It's true."

Her pal held out a green apple and a pineapple sucker in a V in her hand. "Is not!"

Melody took her favorite, pineapple, and untwisted its wrapper. "Thanks."

Steph nodded as she worked on her own. "You'll always be his one and only."

One of Mel's brows raised.

"Blood before crud, my dear."

Mel shared in a giggle and leaned back into the inviting shadows of their sanctuary.

"You always know how to pick me up, Steph."

"Meh. It's a gift."

Mel closed her eyes and sank into the tropical paradise of her sucker. She would give anything to be wisped away to an island right now.

"You gonna make it?" Stephanie tapped Mel's Keds with her own.

Melody sighed. "Yeah. Just thinking."

"About?"

Melody rolled her sucker to the other side of her mouth. "Getting away for a while."

"We're going to the Outer Banks in two weeks." Steph crossed her bird legs. "Wanna come along?"

Mel's sideways grin said it all. _Yeah, right_.

Her friend shrugged. "I could hide you in my suitcase."

Melody laughed so hard she almost lost her sucker. "You're a goober, Steph."

"Don't say I didn't offer."

"And, what an offer!" Melody rocked forward onto her knees.

"Goin' somewhere?"

"Break's over." Mel scootched over to the ladder. "I've gotta finish these chores if I'm gonna meet my dad in the park tonight."

"Oooh, fireworks?"

Mel bobbed her head as she descended the rope ladder. "You going?"

"Eh," Steph said. "Maybe."

Mel hopped to the crunchy turf from the second rung remaining on the ladder. "Decisive, as always."

Steph's head poked out from the treehouse. "Talk to ya later?"

""Hope so," she said, trotting off in the direction of her flower beds.

By the time she had finished the gardening and the rest of her yardwork, the sun had relinquished some of its hold on the late afternoon. Melody had gone in to shower and get changed. _I've been looking forward to this all day!_ She hurried to dry off and get changed. Memories of Independence Days past overwhelmed her imagination. The smell of popcorn and hotdogs. Bright bursts of multi-colored light.

"This is gonna be so awesome!"

She padded out into the living room - to find it completely empty.

"Chad?" Melody walked down the far hallway. "Megan? Angela?"

She made quick work of the ground between herself and the front door. No shoes on the mud mat. Mel threw the door ajar and ran to the empty driveway.

"Whuh?"

Her hurt and rage found no proper voice. All that remained was to slink up into the treehouse and cry herself to sleep. The whistles and bangs woke her up from her tear-crusted slumber. A bright red streak of light chased after a green one in the humid night skies. Their majestic plumes peeked up over the hillside in the distance.

She wiped back another sniffle. "Hope he's having a good time."

Melody couldn't tell for certain, but, through her welling tears, she swore that the last lavender plume resembled a barn owl.


	2. Chapter Two: Birthdays and Invitations

"She made me stay here, dad. I wasn't _feverish_."

Mike flipped the sizzling burgers over on the grill, and gave them all a pat with his spatula. "Now, why would your mom -"

"Step - mom."

He gave her a perturbed glare. "Why would she want to do that to you, Mel?" He focused his attention back on the wondrous meat beneath his nose. "What would she gain from it?"

Melody flopped into the white plastic patio chair. Her defeated head collapsed into her hands. "She hates me."

Mike's miniature potbelly jiggled. "I hardly doubt that."

Melody's hands slapped the parts of the chair's arms that the sun had baked the pigment from. "She works me like a slave, and you don't even care!"

Her dad doused the burgers in Worcestershire sauce. "Please, hon. It's your birthday. Can we not go through this again now?"

"I do the cooking." One of her fingers unfurled. "I do the cleaning." Another finger went up. "Fold their laundry, the yard work, take out the trash..." She held up her open palm. "Should I continue?"

Mike's chest deflated as he set the patties on the paper plate. "Look, Melody. I love you and believe you, but-"

"What, dad? But what?"

His leathery left hand went up and brushed the question out of existence. "I'll talk to her later. Can we at least try to make this a peaceful celebration?" He pulled his only child out of the chair by her hands. "In case you hadn't noticed, my baby's turning eleven today." He twirled her on their brick patio dancefloor.

Mel laughed as he dipped her. "You're a goober, dad."

He grinned. "Takes one to know one."

Mel slugged him in the bicep. Not hard, but with enough force to get her point across.

Her dad toted the platter of restaurant-level patties out to the picnic table under the shade trees. "All right, everybody. Soup's on!" He sat his masterpieces at the center of the butterfly tablecloth. "No fancy maids 'round here. Get your grub while the gettin's good."

Chad made a b-line for the stack of paper plates next to the meat. He snatched one off the top, and went for a plastic fork behind the plates.

"Not quite, sport," Mike said, winking at Mel. "Birthday girl goes first."

Chad's forlorn face spoke volumes. Melody skipped to the front of the forming line, and took the burger and plate from her dad. Down the table she went, filling her plate with picnic favorites.

 _Angela_ came stumbling down the embankment to join the gathering. "H-Hey, e'ryone." Giggle-snort.

The reek of fermented drink wafted into Mel's face on the opposite side of the picnic table.

Mike leaned into Angela's side and grabbed a flabby bicep. "Drinking on her birthday?"

Mel's father had clearly been pushed past his limits. She attempted to hide her smirk behind her cheeseburger, but Megan had seen it all. Her step-sister's glare blazed a hole into Mel's face.

"Oh, relax!" Angela swiped a napkin from her husband's hand. "You're shuch a pottypooter!" Another chortle. She took a fork and tried to fish some mini dill pickles from their jar. After a few goofy jabs, she surrendered. She shook a small hummock of chips onto her plate (and her shoes), and flopped onto the bench beside her own daughter.

Megan scoffed. "God, mom."

"Whuh?" Angela mumbled. "It's a party, right?"

Chad's expression didn't garner her any more warmth either.

Their mom took up her cup of booze and scoffed. "Whudeveuh."

Melody's birthday meal went on with little other interruption from her kin by marriage. Her grandparents had come down from their place an hour north, and sat in contemplative satisfaction next to her.

Mel's grandpa leaned back and patted his round belly. "Good vittles as usual, son."

Mike got up from the table and took his and his parent's trash over to the trashcan. "Thanks, dad. What can I say? I learned from a master."

Grandpa chuckled. "I dunno about all of that."

Mel handed her trash to her dad. "Pssh! Your food was the best when I was growing up."

She felt Grandpa's big warm hand console her shoulders. "You're being too kind to my culinary sufferings."

"Oh, please," her Granny said. She brushed a fly from her graying hair. "The only things Melody would eat growing up were your burgers and pancakes." She forked the last of her macaroni salad into her mouth and handed her trash to her son.

A low belch radiated from somewhere in the depths of Angela's gullet. "This family time is really *hiccup* touching an' all, but canwemovezish ah-long" her flimsy hand fluttered in front of her face, *hiccup* "jush a lil' bit?" Giggle, giggle. Snort.

Megan mumbled something and stood. "Come on, mom." The disappointment in her tone surprised Mel.

Angela shook her daughter's hand from her elbow. "I'm fine." She attempted to stand, but stumbled backward into the grass, taking her empty cup and plate of chips with her.

Chad got up and walked around the table to his mom sprawled in the lawn and laughing. "C'mon, mom." He took her by a hand, and heaved her oof the well-manicured grass.

Angela mumbled something and collapsed to a knee once more.

Mike dropped the trash bag and secured his wife under her armpit. "Let's go, dear. I'll help you in to the couch."

She babbled and slobbered a few phrases about being perfectly fine before stumbling into the door jam.

"Easy does it, ma." Chad guided his mom in the front door and toward the sectional sofa on the nearby wall.

Somewhere deep in the recesses of her spirit, Melody felt sorry for them. Chad, Megan, even Angela. The glass of wine in the evenings had expanded to include with lunch, during her midmorning blogging, and now pretty much any time Angela was near a bottle.

Mike pointed a finger toward Mel. "Stay put, hon." He disappeared inside. "I'll be back with your presents."

Mel gave a cursory nod amid Megan's embarrassed smiles. Grandma and Grandpa traded utterances of uncertainty until their son returned at last with an armload of gifts.

"Well, now," Grandpa said. "It's high time someone around here started showing a little appreciation for me." His wizened gaze found Mel, arms crossed and sporting a frown. "Can I at least help open them?"

Mel cracked and burst into laughter. He always knew how to do that. "Fine, grandpa."

She took up a lean rectangular present wrapped in purple paper and a pink bow. "Happy birthday, Mel. Love, dad, Angie, Chad, and Megan." She grinned as she ripped into the corner folds. A pink box. The telltale emblem. Mel's face sagged. "Dad – a Barbie?"

"I thought you liked those."

Megan giggled into her hands.

Melody took the last of the paper off. "Yeah, when I was seven. That was four years ago."

Her stepsister erupted in snorts an chuckles. Something small and brown plonked off Megan's forehead and rolled across the tablecloth.

An acorn? Mel raised her eyes into the boughs of the tall oak. Another nut came hurling toward her stepsister's head. That squirrel wound up for that like a fastball pitch.

"Ah!" Megan buried her face in her arms. "That one hurt."

Mike picked up an acorn and examined it. "You all right?"

Mel's grandpa shook his balding head. "Darn critters are going nuts around here."

Grandma slugged him on the shoulder. "Don't mind this old knuckle head girls." She bobbed her head toward the presents. "Go on and finish, baby."

Melody dug back into her small mound of festive paper. As the sun dipped down below the lavender hills, Mel unwrapped the last of her birthday gifts, a new pair of Keds. Her dad had gone back into the kitchen with grandma, and returned carrying a lit chocolate cake. He had bought her favorite from the local bakery, a two-layer round, fudge frosting, and raspberry filling. Once the song had been sung, Mel closed her eyes. She opened them and blew all eleven candles out in a single breath.

Her grandma fiddled with a yellow bow. "Whadcha wish for?"

She scoffed. "You know better than that, grandma."

Grandma winked and nibbled at her slice. "I tried."

Melody watched the first twinkles of the evening's fireflies over the wedge of chocolate heaven. Little by little, they undulated and flashed in and out of existence. A magical dance of nature's most mystical creatures in these parts.

"It wasn't that long ago," her dad said, stuffing the wrapping paper and plates into his trash bag, "that I saw you out there with Steph chasing them all over the yard." His smile warmed. "Where is Steph? You girls have another spat?"

Mel shook her brown curls. "On vacation."

"Ah."

She stood and collected her gifts. "Should be back tomorrow, I think."

Grandpa grumbled as he heaved himself up. "I guess it's about that time for us, too, granny."

Grandma stuck out a hand. "Help out of this thing."

He obliged and the elderly couple gathered their keys and phones. They both smothered Mel in kisses before saying their farewells.

Mike trailed behind her as they made their way in from the ferocity of the mosquitoes. "Have a good birthday, hon?"

She nodded. Short of the bumbling embarrassment, "Great."

"Good." He closed the front door with a gentle tug, and kicked off his loafers. "Better go check on Angela, then."

Her snoring's rattling the windows. I hardly see the need, but, "Okay."

Melody slid her shoes off and padded down the hall and into her room. The overhead light caught a sparkly object on her pillows. She glanced back down the hall, half-expecting her dad to be standing there wearing a smirk.

"One last surprise card?"

Her dad wasn't there. Taking cautious steps, she approached the glittery envelope on her bed. It had hand-written elaborate lettering on its front face:

To: Miss Melody Ann Quill

Mel sat next to the mysterious letter, contemplating whether or not to proceed for the longest time. Curiosity got the better of her. A Quill family fault, if ever there was one. Its flap came up with little resistance. She slid the trifold letter out and opened it.

Miss Quill,

This letter is to inform you on your selection to attend the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Massachusetts. We cordially invite you to begin your studies with us in the coming term to commence on 21 August. On that evening, please proceed to the old B & O roundhouse station, and await further instruction. More details will arrive in the coming weeks. Again, congratulations. We look forward to meeting you soon!

Mel let the aged paper drop to the comforter. "This has to be some kind of prank." Her eyes narrowed as she peered out her window. "She's gonna get it when she gets home."


	3. Chapter 3: Leftie

Summer had withered down to a near close. In a few more days, public schools would commence. Melody Quill's thoughts dwelled a lengthy journey from such things. Her imagination lingered among the flowing handwritten letters in her Ilvermorny invitation. She had thought about teliing her dad about it, of course. His level-headed approach would have brushed it off as a prank or spam mail. No. She had to keep this to herself. Well, herself and Steph.

How to get there without dad's permission. Therein, laid the problem. Mel sat up in her bed and stretched. The morning sun blazed outside her window through a smoky haze. She slung her feet to the floor and wiped the crud from her eyes.

"How am I gonna tell him?"

She shuffled out into the hallway and down to the bathroom. He would be devastated. Mel flushed and cleaned up at the sink. Her disheveled reflection stared back at her. Light brown curls concealed one green eye.

"But, I really wanna go." She dried her hands and moped back into her room.

Melody closed her door and threw on some clothes. Nothing fancy. Some old bike shorts and a faded tee from two summers ago. She sat at her vanity and fiddled with her hair. Her nails tinked against something that hadn't been there last night. She glanced down from putting her hair into a short ponytail to find a little glass bottle. Secured to its neck by a dark blue string was a thin slip of paper. Mel finished her hair, and took the paper between a finger and thumb. It looked and felt just like the invitation.

"What in the world are you?"

Upon closer inspection of the slip, she discovered a message:

Study your reflection

Drink and say,

Replication of self

With the words, Reflectos Animatae

A riddle? Her mind raced to make sense of it. She lifted the bottle and swirled its milky purple contents.

"Then, why this purple goo?" None of it made a ton of sense to her. She cupped in her right hand and headed for the front door. "Steph'll know what to do."

She slid on her shoes and jogged off across the lawn toward their treehouse. The hooting of a fluffy snow owl in the oak's branches took Mel by surprise as she ascended the ladder.

Her bottle slipped from her grasp. "Crud!" She pinned it to the trunk with the meat of her palm. Clenching it tighter, Melody completed her climb into the pressure cooker of a treehouse.

"About time you showed up."

Mel jumped sideways into the space. "Lord, Steph! You tryin' to give me a heart attack?"

Her friend eased her back against the wall. "I've only been up here for an hour."

"Sorry." Mel leaned back into another wall. "Long night."

Steph gave her a once-over. "Uh huh." She bobbed her head at Mel's fist. "Whatcha got?"

"Dunno."

Steph inched closer. " More to do with that school place?"

Mel nodded. "Think so."

"Listen, Mel."

Here it came. Mel braced for impact.

"This is a once in a lifetime sort of thing, Mel."

Her eyes drifted out the entrance. "I get it, Steph, but my dad would never let it happen." She scoffed. "Gone for five or six months? Come on."

Her bestie rolled up onto her knees. "You've gotta go to this place."

Mel's torso deflated. "It's not that I don't want to go. There's just no way to make it happen."

Steph forced her fingers to unfurl. Her eyes grew. "What's that?"

Mel let her take it. "Like I said. Dunno. It showed up -"

Cicadas outside crescendoed into a hissing roar, drowing out her thought.

Once the racket died down, she tried again. "It showed up on my vanity this morning."

Her friend looked over the slip of paper. "What do you think it means, Reflectos Animatae?"

Mel shrugged.

"A potion?"

Mel took her bottle back. "Obviously. What do ya suppose it's for?"

Steph tilted her head and leaned closer to it. "Maybe it's some sort of Alice-In-Wonderland type crap?" She eased back upright. "I guess there's only one way to find out."

"Psssh!" Mel crossed her arms. "And, if I get turned into a frog or something?"

Steph laced her fingers behind her head, and leaned against the wall. "Meh. I'll take care of ya."

"Ha, ha. Funny stuff."

Steph yawned. "Are your step-whatevers home?"

Mel shook her head. "Went to the mall."

Her pal sat up, and slid out of the entrance. "Then, let's go try it out."

"Easy for you to say." She crawled out behind her friend. "It's not gonna turn you into a frog."

The duo made their way into Mel's bedroom. Standing before the full-length mirror on her door, Melody took the bottle in her right hand.

Steph shooed her. "Go on. Take it."

"What flavor do you suppose it is?"

Steph gave a quick side glance out her window. No one back yet. "Who cares? Hurry up and take it."

Mel grumbled and popped its cork. "Fine." The sparkling fluid went down in one smooth gulp. Grape? No, Raspberry. She couldn't pin down its exact flavor. It kept changing. She looked into her reflection's green eyes. "Reflectos Animatae."

Melody's mirror image glared back in silence. "Aw, man. It was a -"

Steph's arm snapped up and held her in check. "Wait." Her finger pointed at the mirror. "Look."

Mel's reflection fazed out of view in the glass, and materialized right next to her.

Steph staggered back into a nightstand. "Whoa!"

Her twin stood stoic as Mel circled her.

"Is she real?"

Mel poked her twin's arm. "As real as you and me." As she encircled her clone once more, Melody's hip knocked the spent bottle off her vanity. The Melody clone reacted, catching the glass bottle in her left palm.

"That might be a problem." Steph concealed her mouth behind a hand.

"What might?" She spun around and eyed her clone.

"Here," Steph said, handing the clone a pencil. "Write your name on that slip of paper."

The Mel double did as instructed, penning her full name in beautiful cursive letters with her

"Left hand." Mel sighed. "Oh, no."

Steph's arm draped around her neck. "Maybe he won't notice."

The corners of Melody's mouth sagged. "He's my dad. Of course, he'll notice. Crap."

"So," Steph held an upturned palm at the clone. "What do we do with Leftie, here?" Her gaze bounded to the slip of paper on the vanity.

Mel bent in next to her pal. A new message had appeared. "Reflectile will expire on 24 December."

Their eyes locked in an expression of astonishment.

Steph's hands flew to her hips. "Well, there ya go! She'll be here while you're up there. Problem solved."

A car door slammed shut outside. "No." Mel scrambled to push Leftie toward the closet. "The problems just came home."

Mel tucked Leftie in under her hung wardrobe. "Not a peep." She rolled the closet door shut.

Steph flopped beside her on the bed. "What do you feed a Reflectile anyway?"

Mel's heart leaped into her throat as she glanced down the hall. "No clue, amigo."


	4. Chapter Four: Rolling Thunder

The eve of her departure for Ilvermorny had arrived. Melody waited until her house had gone quiet, and then crept out with Leftie to meet Steph. The last few days had been a fun bit of getting the chores done twice as fast, pranking her step-siblings, and messing with Angela when she'd had too much wine.

Steph snuck out beyond the stretch of the back porch light of her house. "Hey, guys. You ready to roll?"

Mel gave Leftie a side glance. "Guess so, yeah."

"You worry too much." Steph took a few steps over to Leftie and set an arm around her neck. "We're under control here."

Leftie imitated her actions. "Yeah. We've got things here. Go have fun."

Steph smiled, flaunting her mild overbite. "See?"

Leftie started off toward the Chateau de Quill. "I'll take care of things here. You should get going. The train will be along soon."

Steph climbed up the ladder and disappeared into the treehouse. Mel's old gym bag poked out a few seconds later. "Look out below."

Melody stepped back and watched her things hit the turf. She knelt next to it, and pulled the invitation from its side pocket. "B & O roundhouse station."

"Yeah," Steph said on her way off the lowest step. "That's a bit of a hike across town." She tapped the bag with her foot. "So, we need to get you moving."

Mel stood, tossing the bag's long strap over her shoulder. "Point made."

Steph's lower jaw quivered. "Be (sniffle) be careful up there."

Her arms clamped around Mel like a bear trap. "I'll be fine."

Her pal pulled away, wiping back the tears. "Write me, or whatever they do?"

Mel giggled. "Of course. We'll figure it out."

Steph crept to the Thompson's picket fence line. "Guess I'll see ya around Christmas?"

Mel nodded.

"Off to school with you, then."

They shared another apprehensive chuckle.

Mel started down the leaning row of fence posts.

"Now, I know how my mom felt on my first day of Kindergarten."

Her trek through town went with little excitement. She passed two log trucks on the two-lane road on their way to the lumberyards in the neighboring town. A herd of deer galloped along through a field in her direction on the other side of the First Methodist Church. The town was too small for a sheriff's office. No worries there. Not so much as a passing car as Melody rounded the corner in front of the drugstore and followed the iron rails behind the Community Center.

"Not much going on tonight." She stepped onto a rail and held her arms out to either side.

Up around the next bend, the roundhouse and its small platform came into view. Two other figures stood in the station, one a foot taller than the other.

"Please, don't be maniac hobos. Please, don't be maniac hobos."

As she got nearer to the platform, Mel realized she could relax. What sort of maniac would stand at an abandoned train station wearing a dark blue suit and jacket?

The shorter figure had black curly hair down to her shoulders, a skirt, and a small suitcase. A girl.

She turned to face Mel as she strode along the concrete platform. "Here for the train?" She sounded a tad nervous.

"First year, too?" The taller boy kicked a stray pebble off into the high weeds.

Mel nodded.

The girl's big hazel eyes lit up. "Me, too!" Her brown fists pumped. "I'm so excited to get to Ilvermorny." She extended a hand. "I'm Trish," Mel shook it, "Hanlon, and that's my brother, DaeShawn. He's a third year."

"Melody Quill." She tried to look inside the roundhouse. Dirt on the windows, lots of cobwebs, but little else. "We're at the end of the line, right?"

Trish nodded.

"I don't see anything big in the roundhouse." She turned and glanced back up the rails toward town. "Where's this train, then?"

DaeShawn laughed. "It'll be here in a bit."

Trish shook her head. "I tried to make sense of it earlier."

Mel angled in and whispered. "No luck?"

"Nope." Trish crossed her arms. "Said we'd find out soon enough." She looked Mel up and down. "You from around here?" Haven't seen you before."

Mel nodded. "I live across town."

"Public school?"

Mel rubbed the nylon strap on her bag. "Yup. This all sorta fell in my lap."

DaeShawn walked in behind them. "Our family's a legacy at the school. Our four greats grandmother went there."

Melody returned his smile. "Cool."

He rested a hand on the girls' shoulders. "Get ready. Here comes old Rolling Thunder!"

Snaking tendrils of fog rose from the grass, and congealed several feet in the air in front of the roundhouse. They swirled and grew into billowing clouds alight with streaks of light.

Mel felt a small hand grab hold of her wrist. I feel ya, girl.

The curious storm expanded into a hole the size and shape of a railway tunnel. More blue bolts forked and snapped across the phantom gap. A rumble. Low at first, but it grew in Mel's ears until the black steel cowcatcher of the steam engine peeled through to this plane of existence. A warm blast of wind blew Melody back on her heels as the long line of cars eased to a gentle stop.

HIIIISSSSS

Jets of white steam puffed out from under the wheel casings. The mere presence of the old steam train brought the station back to life. Everywhere she looked, Melody found newness, freshness, and people.

"A common enchantment," DaeShawn said, meandering toward the front of the short line of passengers. "What No-Majs don't find out, the better for all of us."

Trish took her suitcase in one hand, and dragged Mel by the other. "Come on. Let's get some window seats in the same car."

The girls wove around a few sets of parents imparting their last words of wisdom for this term onto their impatient children. A short man in a blue uniform with gold stripes down the sides of his slacks stepped off the train. The dark red rectangle over the brim of his round cap read: Conductor. A patch of rust-colored hair surrounded his mouth and nothing more.

The conductor pulled a lined card from a breast pocket. "All aboard! Old Number Nine. Rollin' Thundah! Fastest, and only, enchanted train this side o' the Appalachian Mountains." He lifted an overstuffed suitcase onto the train car's top step. "There you go, young sir." He motioned the bag's owner aboard, and strolled a short distance down the platform. "That's right, folks! You might of heard several old yarns spun about an eerie ghost train that haunts various parts of the States." His belly jiggled with his chuckles. "You're about to ride her for yourselves." His meaty hand showcased the train. "So, all aboard! Next stop, Mount Greylock and the Ilvermorny School o' Witchcraft an' Wizardry."

Trish spun around on the top step of the train car, her mouth agape. Mel stood below her, wearing the same bewildered expression. "Let's go before all the windows are taken."

Mel scrambled to keep up with her new friend as she slipped and bounded around chattering clusters of older school children.

"This way," Trish said, motioning Mel over to the left side of the next car. "I found some."

She excused herself around an upper-class girl, and plopped in the window seat across from Trish. "So many people."

Trish bounced in her blue plush seat. "I've been waiting years for this, Melody. Years."

She could feel Trish's energy radiating in their compartment. Outside their windows, the Conductor made his final boarding calls. A pair of boys and one more girl occupied the remaining seats in Mel's compartment. The blond boy pulled a magazine from his backpack, and buried his lean nose in it. The boy beside Mel was his near polar opposite. He had light brown skin, brown eyes, black curly hair, and sat lower in his seat. On the other side of him, sat a tall girl with light brown complexion, long straight brown hair, and a steely grey gaze.

The short boy next to Melody extended a hand. "Hey."

She detected a foreignness in him.

"I'm Ellie-uh-serr Gooz-man."

She shook his warm hand. "Come again?"

He chuckled. "You can just call me Ellie. Everybody, well except my mom, call me that."

She nodded t still trying to make sense of it. "Melody Quill. Nice to mdet you, Ellie."

He sat up as straight as he could, wearing a suave mug. "I am from Puerto Rico." The R's rolled off his tongue like a purring cat.

"That's Trish Hanlon," Mel said. "We're both from near here."

Old Rolling Thunder hissed as she puffed down the magical line northward. The blond boy swayed in his seat. Mel, Trish, and Ellie stared at him in silence.

He peeked his blue eyes up over top of his magazine. "What?"

"Just curious who you are," Trish said.

The boy closed his magazine, and set it in his lap. "I'm Simon Stillwell. I got on back in Washington."

Trish's brow popped. "D.C?"

Simon laughed. "No, state. Seattle to be more precise."

Melody glanced out their window at the countryside speeding past. "That's a long ride."

Ellie huffed. "Meh, I got on in Orlando. This thing goes all over North America."

Simon cleared his throat. Mel sensed a nervousness in his rigid body. "You guys new?" They nodded which helped Simon's muscles relax. "Me, too."

Trish leaned against the big window. "First years just like you."

A loud blast outside startled all of them. All except the brown-haired girl on the other side of Ellie.

She crossed a long slender leg over the other knee. "No need to get spooked. We're passing back through to the other side."

Ellie brushed off the lap of his slacks. "Who's spooked?"

Mel slid her bag under her seat. "Are you from Puerto Rico, too?"

The girl gave her a sideways grin. "Nope. I'm Cherokee. From Tennessee."

"Sorry." A warm flood washed up Mel's face.

"I'm Ginger Whitehead." She gathered her shiny mane of hair over one shoulder. "No need to be. My family's a legacy at the school."

Trish nodded. "Me, too. The Hanlons go back a long way."

Ginger hummed. "You don't say. Interesting."

An uncomfortable silence hung in their compartment until at last, Melody broke it. She pointed to Simon's lap. "What's that about?"

He held up his magazine. "This?" Mel nodded. "Astronomy Today. Last month's issue." His face sagged. "It'll have to do, I guess."

"You like that kind of stuff?" Mel shifted in her seat. "Science, I mean."

Simon's head bobbed quickly. "Ten thousand."

Mel glanced around the space. The others didn't follow either. "What?"

Simon flipped his magazine open to an article and pointed to it. "We've discovered at least ten thousand exoplanets to date. It's only the beginning."

Trish's shoulder popped up. "Sounds neat."

A cart wheeled up to their doorway in the hall. A tall, clean-shaven man set its brake with his foot. "All right, folks. We've got trading cards, chocolate bunny eggs, and milkshake shakers." His weathered blue eyes scanned their compartment. "Who wants what?"

Trish popped up from her seat. "Chocolate bunny egg, please!"

Ginger held up her finger. "One here, too."

Simon and Ellie shuffled to the cart to peruse the wares. While they did that, the gentleman passed out the other orders. "Two eggs." His eye fell on Melody. "And, for you miss?"

She stuffed her hands in her pockets, looking for cash she knew she didn't have.

Trish patted her knee. "Don't sweat it. All students at Ilvermorny have a bank account of some kind."

The cart man drew a tiny leather booklet from his hip pocket. "Let's have a look." He glanced at Mel. "Name?"

"Melody Quill." Her eyes fell to the dust at his feet. If there's nothing there, this will look sooo bad.

He flipped through his booklet and stopped with a triumphant, "Aha! Quill. Yes, of course, Miss Quill. You have a long-standing account with the Greylock Savings and Loan. Like anything?"

The sparkle returned to her green eyes. "A chocolate bunny egg, please."

Ellie selected a crinkling pack of cards. "I'll take these."

Simon nabbed a wax bottle of pink liquid. "A strawberry Milkshake shaker for me."

"Very well," the cart man said. He unlocked the wheels and pushed it along. "Excellent choices."

Trish peered up from peeling the foil off her egg. "Hey, bro."

DaeShawn waved a hand. "Hey, guys. Settled in?"

Trish nodded, plucking a hunk of the chocolate shell from her egg.

Her brother nodded to Ellie. "Which ones did you get?"

Ellie thumbed through his latest additions to his growing collection. "Algibert Fontaine."

"Meh." DaeShawn leaned against the doorway.

"A Draco Malfoy and a Hermione Weasley."

"Nice." DaeShawn wagged a digit. "I'd hang onto those."

Mel opened her egg and broke off a portion of its shell.

"I'd be careful with those," DaeShawn said.

A minute solid chocolate bunny peeked its sniffing nose over the edge of Melody's egg. One paw followed by the other. Then, in a flash, it hopped onto her lap and ran up her arm.

DaeShawn sighed. "They tend to run all over the place."

Ellie's cards flew out of his hands. "Easy, Mel. He's on your shoulder." He snuck in next to Mel, and cupped his hands over her left shoulder.

"Don't hurt it."

Trish harumphed. "You realize you're meant to eat it, Mel."

Ellie's agile hands encircled the bunny as it sniffed the collar of her shirt.

"Ha!" His hands came down like a trap over the sweet bunny. "Cup your hands, and I'll lower mine on top to make a ball."

She moved her hands toward his. Ellie placed his own on top and covered the bunny in a finger tent.

Melody giggled as her treat hopped around her palm. "It tickles." She cracked two fingers for a look. "Aw. He's too cute to eat."

Simon bit the top off his wax bottle and swigged its contents. "You know that it's enchanted choc -" His body began to shake in his seat. "Ch-ch-ch" The shaking intensified. "O-o-o-o-co-la-a-a-a-te!"

Ginger laughed so hard that she doubled over.

Mel must have looked like she wanted to say something because Trish cut her off. "Milkshake Shakers. Can't do them. Motion sickness."

Simon laughed so hard the part of the bottle in his mouth fell out. "Mmmm! S-s-strawww-berrry." Once the candy's spell had worn off, he popped the wax back into his mouth. "What a rush."

Trish turned her attention back on Mel. "You'll love it once you try it."

Ginger recovered from her fit. "You guys are too much."

The bunny darted out of Mel's slack grip, and leaped into her open mouth.

Ellie laughed. "No choice now!"

She finished her treat riddled with reluctance. To Melody's surprise, its bitter shell gave way to a creamy ganache center that was, "Delicious."

Trish downed her own bunny. "My favorite part."

Mel curled up in her seat and watched the farms and hills zip by in blurs. "I wonder what it'll be like."

Ellie pocketed his cards. "I've heard that you get sorted into houses. They bring you up one at a time, and you draw the name of your house out of a Sorting Hat."

Trish's head tilted back against her headrest. "I dunno about any hats, but my brother told me a little about the houses."

"What are they like?" Mel closed her eyes and drifted.

"Well," Trish said. "There's four houses: Horned Serpent, Pukwudgie, Wompus, and Thunderbird."

Ginger propped her head upon her right hand. "That's what I heard, too."

Trish nodded. "They choose you – the houses, I mean. DaeShawn told me that sometimes more than one house picks you, and that's the only time you get a choice."

Simon's eyes widened. "I'll bet I get picked by two, no, three of them!"

Mel sighed. "Sounds amazing. What kind of stuff do we learn?"

"Probably spells," Ginger said, "potions, and the like. Don't know for sure."

The train's intercom squelched. "Attention all passengers, attention all passengers. We will be arriving at our destination momentarily. Please place all refuse in the proper receptacles, and gather all personal belongings. Thank you again for your patronage aboard the Rolling Thunder!"

Melody felt the pistons slow under her. The Thunder's brakes engaged, slowing her to a whining halt in the Mt. Greylock station. Once it had come to a full stop, Melody trailed behind her new companions out onto the platform. A passerby could pick out all of the first year students with ease. They craned their nimble necks, trying like crazy to take it all in.

Melody counted herself among them. The antique street clocks sat on their iron posts; their unusual hands bent and curved to tell the time. Mt. Greylock station towered over its wooden platforms – three in all.

A bent form hobbled up to the front of the line of children. He dragged a gimp right leg in the gravel behind him. "This way! Don't have the time to repeat myself. So, listen up the first time." He swung the dead weight of his bad leg around, bringing it alongside his good one. "I'm Constable Krain, Head of Security for the school." Krain ran a bony hand through his fluttering grey hair. "Welcome, or welcome back, to Mt. Greylock. "If you all will kindly grab your belongings and follow me, I'll escort you up the mountain."

Trish jumped in place, clapping her hands. "Whee!"

Mel slung her gym bag over a shoulder and fell in beside the others.

Constable Krain pointed to a cluster of glowing lights in the nearby valley. "Over there's Dellton. Nice little town. Shops, restaurants, and such." He limped up an incline in the direction of a large gazebo. "More on that later."

Melody shuffled along next to Simon and Trish in the loose white gravel.

"Holy moly."

Mel followed Simon's finger up to the humongous structure atop Mt. Greylock. Golden light warmed many of its windows and spires. Clusters aof pines guarded either flank.

"Right now," Krain said, stopping beside the gazebo, "we need to get you a ride to the top."

A small army of hooves rumbled up the gravel path from around a gentle curve. Dark carriages pulled by a translucent pair of blue ethereal horses rolled up to the gazebo and stopped. A porter in coattails and a powdered wig stepped out from the first coach.

Krain cleared his throat. "No need to push or shove. We've got enough rom for everyone."

The crowd thinned out in groups of eight. Once the front carriage had departed, the next in line took its place. At last, Mel and her new friends climbed into their coach. It had cranberry red leather seats, and smelled like her grandpa's shoe closet. She took up a seat next to a window, and set her bag on her lap. Trish, Ellie, and the others filed in, plopping down in the dim space. A lone lantern next to the coach's door stood watch over the growing darkness.

Ellie sniffed the air next to Melody. "Kinda creepy, if you ask me."

Ginger looked at home in the rolling carriage. "I think they're beautiful."

Simon poked a nervous eye out between the wooden spindles on his window. "Ghost horses, creepy carriage rides, and sleepy old towns?"

Mel watched the sparse shrubs on the hillside float by as their carriage rolled to a halt before Ilvermorny's front gates. She stepped down out of their coach, and joined the gaggle that stood before a set of gilded gates. At the top of each one sat an iron three-pointed Gordian knot encased in a circle.

The left gate swung open on rusty hinges. A motherly figure emerged from the other side basked in the yellow glow of her swaying lantern. "Good evening, students. I am Professor Hill." Her studious blue gaze found Melody's. "If you will all come with me inside, we have a rather fancy welcome wagon awaiting your arrival."


	5. Chapter Five: A Knot of Sorts

Professor Hill led them around a three-level fountain. Someone far back in time had taken great care in carving its intricate medallions, scrollwork, and cherubs.

"You'll find," Professor Hill said, turning her greying blonde bun to one side, "that there are a great many things here to pique your curiosity." The children followed her between the two large statues of a man and a woman and up the steps. "Be forewarned, though, that curiosity around here can be lethal." She turned on the top stair and clasped her hands at the waist of her long blue robe. "The pair of statues out front are in honor of our school's founders, James and Isolt Stewart. It is said that the spirit of her aunt, Gormlaith Gaunt, haunts this place still."

Mel and Trish looked at one another, jaws unhinged.

Professor Hill batted the horrid notion from the air. "Enough about that." She turned and opened the tall reinforced wooden doors. "Welcome to the Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

All of the older kids let the first years enter before them. Several snickers escaped them as the group made their way past the four gargantuan wooden statues.

Daeshawn chuckled with another third year. "This was favorite part, too."

Mel took in the aroma of the ancient polished wood. A creature wielding a bow, a large bird, a column of coiled serpent, and huge wooden cat all towered at least ten feet over her. "Good gravy."

Professor Hill wagged a hand toward the statues. "Those represent our four houses here: Pukwudgie, Thunderbird, Horned Serpent, and Wampus. More on them later." She waddled through the main hall and pried another set of lean thin doors ajar. "Please file in and quietly," a cluster of upperclassmen shuffled by in a blur, "I said quietly – find a seat." She eyeballed the brunette at the front of the offending gaggle. "Right, Miss Boggs?" The girl bobbed her lowered head.

Melody found a seat in the banquet hall at a table surrounded by her friends. One of four massive candle chandeliers burned above them. The older students caught one another up on their summer adventures and exploits. Professor Hill maneuvered her way to the front stage and the other faculty. With three loud claps, she silenced the banter.

An older man in dark blue robes and a matching eight-pointed hat with a cranberry red tassel strode to the podium. He kept his white hair short and well groomed. His face was clean-shaven save a long white handlebar moustache. "Good evening, everyone. I am Professor Algibert Fontaine, Headmaster of the school." The ends of his moustache fluttered as he spoke. "For those of you who are new here, welcome to Ilvermorny. I trust that our illustrious staff will challenge your wit as well as your willpower." The headmaster's blue gaze surveyed the elder students. "For all others, welcome back! I do hope that your summer break was a pleasant one." He walked out from behind the podium, and strolled down a center aisle. "A handful of reminders to kick things off: both deeds of merit and of poor decision will either reward or penalize your respective house. As always, the house with the most points at the end of the school year will win the Founder's Cup." Fontaine stopped at a table filled with students sporting white scarves with light blue stripes. "We'll have to see if House Horned Serpent can defend their crown."

Fontaine clasped his hands at his back and proceeded. "Some other housekeeping items for the term, Ms. Crutchford would like me to remind you that the library closes every night at 11 PM sharp. No exceptions. Constable Krain has also asked me to remind all students that the Snakewood Tree and the Morrigan Marshlands are off limits." He paced back up the neighboring aisle. "All students are permitted to travel on their free time to Dellton. The one caveat to that is that all first years must either travel in groups of two or more, or possess a Special Pass from one of your faculty." Professor Fontaine stopped on the banquet hall floor below the podium. "If there are no other pressing business matters, I'll ask the first year students to accompany Professor Hill out into the main hall. All others, please make your way to the balconies for the Sorting Ceremony."

Hill scurried toward the doors, clapping as she went. "Okay, first years! Line up over here, single file, please."

The rest of the staff dispersed from the head table and followed the student body into the balconies.

Trish tugged on Mel's sleeve. "This is where the fun stuff starts." She hurried to join the forming line. "Come on."

Mel hopped up and joined Trish and the others in the procession into the main hall. Their line filed out into a hallway between the main hall in front of them and a shallow set of steps leading into a larger room at their backs.

Their parade master halted them under a stone archway. "Listen carefully, children." Hill leaned over the first two kids in the line. "I'll send you out one at a time. Go to the large wooden carving on the floor." She pointed it out to them. "Stand silent and await to be sorted into your respective houses. Once you're done circle back around," she traced the path through an adjacent archway, "and fall in at the end of the line." She righted herself. "Understand?"

The group nodded.

"Very good." She set her hand on Ginger's shoulder. "Wait for them to call you out.

The headmaster's voice echoed from high up on the balcony. "For as long as we wizarding folk have had learning institutions, we have also had methods of sorting apprentices into houses based on their talents and skills. Whether by hat, gemstones, or statues, the goals are all the same: to offer reach of you the best opportunities to reach your greatest potential. Each student will stand on the Gordian Knot. You must clear your mind, and then await your sign. You'll know it when you see it. Please hold all applause until the ceremony's conclusion. Professor Lopez will announce the results for us. First student forward, if you please."

Professor Hill urged Ginger forward. "That's your cue, dear."

Mel watched as Ginger made her way out across the stone floor to the knot carving. She stood stoic for what felt like ages in kid years. A soft blue glow cut through the shadows under the balcony. The gem in the center of the carving of the coiled serpent shone bright.

Professor Lopez made it official. "House Horned Serpent!"

Ellie now stood at the front of the line.

"Go on, dear," Hill insisted.

He walked to the circle, took his hands from his pockets, and awaited his fate. The big wooden wildcat roared and clawed at the air.

"House Wampus!"

Professor Hill motioned a tall girl with a foreign accent. She replied to Hill with a word that sounded a lot like "mercy" to Melody. The girl sauntered out to the knot, released a prissy sigh, and stood. She appeared annoyed by this whole affair. The warrior figure on the far side raised an arrow from behind his diamond-shaped shield, and held it over his feathered head.

Again, Lopez's voice rang out. "House Pukwudgie!"

Mel inched up behind Simon. His turned came next. It didn't take long for the powers to sort him.

"House Horned Serpent!"

Mel turned to Trish. "Good luck out there."

"You, too, Melody."

Mel strode to the knot. Above her, the gallery stared on in their judgmental silence. Her heart thumped in her ribcage. Quick shallow breaths. Dizzy. Come on, Melody. Stay with it. She stepped onto the intricate carving of the three-sided knot. The knot glowed a deep red as she awaited her results. Her eyes bounced from the snake, to the silent cat, to the –

WHOOOSH!

A forceful breeze blew her hair off her slender shoulders as the enchanted bird beat its wide wings.

"House Thunderbird!"

Her heartbeat slowed. Mel made her way back around to the end of the line behind Simon. Back out in the hall, Trish got her calling.

"House Thunderbird!"

Moments later, her friend rejoined them. "Thunderbird. Nice."

"Me, too," Mel said.

The prissy girl faced them, pouting. "Ah. So nice." The snide mockery rolled off her tongue. "Leetil Thunderbudeez."

Trish scoffed. "Don't mind her."

They filed out into the thunderous applause coming from the balconies.

Trish waved to her brother from the main hall. "Maybe we'll be roomies, Mel!"

Professor Fontaine quieted the crowd with his flapping arms. "Well done! Well done, everyone." He groomed his moustache. "Now, if all first years will proceed to the Wanding Hall, we'll get you some wands and uniform items."

A forceful breeze blew her hair off her slender shoulders as the enchanted bird beat its wide wings.

"House Thunderbird!"

Her heartbeat slowed. Mel made her way back around to the end of the line behind Simon. Back out in the hall, Trish got her calling.

"House Thunderbird!"

Moments later, her friend rejoined them. "Thunderbird. Nice."

"Me, too," Mel said.

The prissy girl faced them, pouting. "Ah. So nice." The snide mockery rolled off her tongue. "Leetil Thunderbudeez."

Trish scoffed. "Don't mind her."

They filed out into the thunderous applause coming from the balconies.

Trish waved to her brother from the main hall. "Maybe we'll be roomies, Mel!"

Professor Fontaine quieted the crowd with his flapping arms. "Well done! Well done, everyone." He groomed his moustache. "Now, if all first years will proceed to the Wanding Hall, we'll get you some wands and uniform items."

The first years made their way down the shallow stairs and into in large chamber opposite the main hall. A younger looking stately gentleman in a three-piece charcoal suit approached them. He kept his short black hair slicked back in shiny streaks.

Professor Fontaine shook his hand as the two shared in a brief sidebar conversation. He patted the gentleman on the arm and addressed them. "Students, this is Mr. Routan. He is our caretaker and purveyor of all things wand related. Well, I say purveyor, but you don't have to buy your first wand, correct, Mr. Routan?"

"Si. This is-a true."

The bounciness in his English gave Melody the impress that he was maybe Italian.

Mr. Routan showcased his wares with outstretched arms. "Zee first one is-a free. After that, you are responsible for its repair or replacement." He slipped a hand into the pocket of his vest. "Here, the wand-a chooses you. I encourage each of you to walk around the room, and examine each variety. I have oak, poplar, maple, redwood, cedar, birch, beech, cherry, mahogany, and so on. If the wand likes you -" he shrugged his shoulders, "It will let you know."

Fontaine laughed. "Well put." He motioned the students closer. "Don't be shy. You have free run of the hall. Wands are all to the left. Uniform items and accessories are to your right." Several of the kids scattered as he continued. "Robes, belts, scarves, and such. Red and gold for Thunderbird, blue on white for Horned Serpent, red on white for Pukwudgie, and silver on black for Wampus."

Mel shuffled past Professor Fontaine. She overheard him chatting with Mr. Routan. "Ah. I remember my first wanding. It felt just like Chistmas morning all over again."

Trish took her by the hand and tugged her over into the nearby aisle. Each aisle had shelves of wooden boxes of every hue of wood imaginable. Inside each box sat a wand. All were polished to a sheen and had elaborate designs etched into their handles.

Mel took a slender white one in her hand. It had little weight and felt effortless to wave about. "These are amazing."

Trish's head bobbed. "Aren't they?" She grabbed a light tan one and traced in the air. "A la kazoom!"

The wand's case flew off the shelf.

Trish stood astonished. "Oh, crap."

Fontaine's voice rose over the growing murmur. "It would be best advised to save enchantments for when you at least have a day's instruction under you."

Trish winced as she set the wand and case back on the shelf. "Sorry."

The girls snuck around the end of the aisle and came upon Simon and Ellie. Ellie had an oaken case while Simon perused the shelves.

"How's it going, boys?" Trish poked her head between them.

Ellie held up his case. "Found mine."

An arch of lightening zapped Simon on the hand. "Ow!" He picked up the cherry case and rubbed his hand. "Found mine, too."

Melody rubbed his back. "Are they all like that?"

"Nope," Ellie said. "Mine felt furry when I picked it up."

Trish skipped off around the corner.

Ellie tapped Simon's forearm. "Hey. Let's go get some uniforms an' stuff."

Simon shook his hand. "Sure."

Mel wandered around the hall, testing various wands. Much to her chagrin, none chose her. Trish giggled on the opposite side of her floor display. "You okay over there?"

Her pal came around with a redwood case in her hand. Mel's chest deflated. Trish handed her a poplar wand. "Relax. Try this one."

Melody took it by its handle. Raised embossed rope had been carved around it in tight coils. She held it under her nose. That wonderful aroma cleared her senses. As she held it in her hand, a peculiar sensation touched her palm. "Kisses?" She chuckled and moved it to her left hand. Again, the feeling of hundreds of tiny kisses touched her hand.

Trish pumped her fists. "That's the winner." She skipped off toward the boys. "Let's go pick out some clothes."

The girls went through a few of the blue robes until they found the right sizes. Both picked out a scarf and some accessories in their new House Thunderbird colors. By the time they had ascended their dorm tower and gotten into their room, both were exhausted.

Mel collapsed on her bed next to Trish. "What a day."

"Tell me about it."

Melody rolled over to face her roomie. "What do you think we'll learn tomorrow?"

Trish sighed, went to her bed, and got changed. "Dunno, but I can't wait to find out."

Mel unpacked her pajamas, and set out her uniform on her desk. "Me either."


End file.
